indie » styles

thirteenth

day the sixteenth

**

Her eyes swept across the pale room. With white walls, sheer curtains and cream-colored sheets on the small bed, it was like a bowl of vanilla ice cream.

It wasn't anything like she expected. She was prepared for walls loitered with band posters and other random items. Instead, it looked like something out of a department store magazine. A very empty room in a department store magazine.

Nervously, she padded across the white carpet to his made bed. Sitting on the edge, she nervously picked at a loose thread and waited for Harry.

after a couple of minutes of uncomfortable silence, the door finally opened and harry slipped inside. his hair was messier then usual and he looked flushed, but an instant smile tugged on his lips when his eyes met hers.

"Hey," he breathed, softly closing the door behind him. "Sorry about that."

"Don't apologize."

"Here you are, soul food." Harry grinned. She looked down to find a grilled cheese sandwich on a plate. Wren couldn't help but grin.

"What if I'm lactose intolerant?" 

"You aren't," Harry answered simply.

"How would you know?" Wren responded.

"Because." Harry gave her a smile that made her chest rise. "I saw you drinking a milkshake when you were walking home the other day."

"Stalker," Wren responded, her head spinning. Harry noticed her. He noticed her. She had to take a bite of the hot sandwich in order to stay grounded. The bread was perfectly toasted and the cheese melted in her mouth. How in the world had he made a grilled cheese so... extraordinary? 

"In my defense, I was outside getting into my truck and it was too large of a milkshake not to take note of." Harry pointed out, watching as Wren finished the grilled cheese.

"Thank you." Wren handed Harry the plate, her stomach warm and full.

"You look pretty uncomfortable." Harry's voice lowered as he sunk into the wall. "Laying down on the bed may be a better option."

"I'm good." Wren managed to sputter. something about the way Harry looked with his wild curls and soft sweater with black briefs made her cheeks flush, she could practically feel the hormones raging inside her.

Harry continued to look at her with uncertainty, but finally sighed and made his way over to the television on the small table.

"Suit yourself, did you pick out a film?" He leaned down and pulled out a box from the corner of the room.

"I didn't know where they were." Not that she looked, snooping through Harry's room just felt wrong.

"I guess I can let it slide just this once." He looked amused. Lifting up the box, she couldn't help but watch the muscles in his back tighten and his arms flex.

She instantly dropped eye contact when he turned back around, feeling embarrassed for staring. Harry grunted as he dropped the box onto the bed, making it squeak.

"So, what would the lady like to watch?" He grinned down at her, exposing two prominent dimples. Her face flushed and she hoped he didn't notice, his electric green eyes locked on her.

"Whatever you want," Wren responded, clearing her throat. Harry slowly licked his soft lips and with nimble fingers, he flicked through the assortments of films.

"We can watch It Follows, only if you're comfortable with a horror movie." He finally said, pulling out a DVD. Wren bit the inside of her cheek.

"What's it about?" She scooted closer to him, the bed squeaking.